Loss of judgment,
was it the departure of my thoughts?
The reckless train keeps moving on
With a passenger stranded
No ticket, no luggage,
Sitting on the bench is a hollow cauldron
The ride to the station
The steps to the platform
All was staged by someone else.
The passenger had arrived at the stop assigned;
It was not her stop.
She looked for the exit door;
It doesn’t exist – read the sign.
There is no train back;
The train forward left.
Was she left behind?
Commuters buzzed around;
Each revolving along its track,
Each with a ticket of their own,
They kept moving on.
The passenger is still stranded.
She cannot move.
All is stationary,
All is at a halt.
Did movement cease to exist?
Or is it the loss of judgment?